homily

 
 

As this day closes we mark the longest night of the year.

The sun will set and the sky will stay dark longer than it has and longer than it will again. For some of us, this night gives space to exhale - a chance for the reality of the world around us to match our inner world. For others of us, this night makes us uneasy. We long for the morning and to be reminded that light is coming. After all, it’s Christmas. It’s Advent. We’re supposed to wait with hope and joy and peace and love. We know how the story ends, so let’s not wallow in the darkness for too long. The light has already come.

But it’s not morning now. It is night. And there can be no dawn without the dark.

Advent begins in the dark. A time to be still. To be quiet or to have quiet thrust upon you. To sit in the dark. To wait in the dark. To listen in the dark. To cry in the dark.

But let’s be honest, sometimes the bright twinkling lights, happy carols, and festive treats seem like a welcome distraction for what might be waiting in the dark. To really be still. To really be quiet. To actually let yourself hold your tender heart before God might mean coming face to face with the very pain you’ve been trying to outrun. The unanswered prayers that you can no longer put words to. The disappointments that threaten to drown out your dreams.

The darkness feels thick - too much to bear. The shadows of the world are long. The night is scary. It is lonely in the dark. The thing about night is the morning always comes, but in the dead of night - and on the longest night - it doesn’t always feel that way. 

But we are not alone in the dark. After all, it was in the dark of night that the eternal Light chose to come. Like a flickering flame pushing back the darkness surrounding it, a tiny babe was born to say I am with you. God with you in the dark. Do not be afraid.

We can be present in the night because we know dawn is coming. We can grieve and not be overcome. Because in the dark we are not alone. 

The little baby born to parents whose lives were turned upside down drew His first breath in the dark. As His head lay on His mother’s chest, a light that could never be overcome by darkness filled this world. And a few decades later when he exhaled, “It is finished,” His light remained even as the sky became black around Him. God with us in the dark. 

The gift of Advent is not a quick fix for what ails you, but this Light that appears on the longest of nights. This promise that we are not alone. This assurance that the heavy darkness will not overwhelm us. This reminder that God is with us.

God’s comfort was uttered in the days of old.

To the man whose heart ached for a child of his own, do not be afraid.

To the teenage girl with a life-altering pregnancy, do not be afraid.

To the man afraid to believe his betrothed was faithful to him, do not be afraid.

To the shepherds resigned to their place in the world, do not be afraid. 

And God’s comfort has found its completion in the darkness now.

To the one sitting on the cold exam table, God with you.

To the one trying to hold it all together, God with you.

To the one feeling the weight of the evil of this world, God with you.

To the one crying alone on the bathroom floor, God with you.

To the one feeling the betrayal of those who were supposed to love you, God with you.

To the one holding your breath as you await the test results, God with you.

To the one wishing you could silence the incessant thoughts, God with you.

To the one crying out how many more have to die, God with you. 

To the one aching to be held, God with you.

To the one grieving the empty chair at the table, God with you.

To the one waiting for answers, God with you. 

To the one angry at people’s indifference, God with you.

To the one staring down death, God with you.

The light doesn’t totally wipe away the dark. There will still be shadows in the best lit room. The light of the candle only extends so far. And the day will always become night. But in the dark, God with us was born, and so we wait for the dawn.

Because of the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to shine upon those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.

God came in the dark. God with us in the dark. Do not be afraid as we wait for the dawn.